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Thursday, September 24, 2026

The History of Custom Combining

By Terrie Todd

 
If you live in the Great Plains or have ever driven through them during the harvest season, you have probably seen combines at work—sometimes ten or more at a time in staggered rows, and frequently working long into the night, headlights beaming across the field. Since no one farmer can afford that much equipment, you know you’re probably witnessing a custom combine crew in action. But the industry’s glory days are past. Starting in Texas and Oklahoma in July and working their way north up through the Dakotas and sometimes into the Canadian prairie provinces, custom combining reached its peak in the 1970s. But let’s go further back.

Using scythes in 1900

Threshing crews predate Combine crews. Early farmers cut grain with a sickle, then separated grain from straw by beating it with a flail and throwing the grain into the air to let the wind drive out the chaff. Those with more resources might have used horses or oxen to tread out the grain. Naturally, cooperative threshing made sense as agricultural land grew more populated and neighbors could work together to bring in each other’s harvests. A group of farmers might pool their resources to purchase machinery shared by all. An enterprising thresherman might assemble a crew of workers and offer his machinery, animals, and labor in one package to farmers, threshing the grain the farmer had already harvested.

By the early 1920s, around 100,00 men found seasonal work on threshing crews. Some were farmers hoping to supplement their income. Many were veterans home from the war or students hoping to earn another year’s tuition. 

1920 - a team of 20 mules

The coming of the combine, which both cut and separated the grain, was revolutionary to the industry. These early machines were powered by eight pairs of horses with a driver walking behind each pair. A wagon drawn alongside received the grain. Tractors began to replace horses in the 1930s, and by the 40’s, the self-propelled combine ruled the day.

The life of a Custom Combine crew member left little time for recreation. His day began at dawn with breakfast, immediately followed by the ritual of servicing the machines, greasing and gassing everything up, checking fluids and tires. When the boss declared the crop was dry enough to cut, the combines roared into action and kept going until dark. As each truck filled, it hauled the grain away to the elevator while another took its place. Laborers earned the whopping wage of a dollar an hour.

Accommodations included tents or trailers—often little more than a wooden bunkhouse on wheels. Rainy days were used to catch up on laundry or move to the next location. A typical crew might consist of the boss, one combine operator and one truck driver per combine, a mechanic, and a cook—often the boss’s wife. If she were lucky, she had a helper.

When the team didn’t travel with their own cook, the farmer’s wife became the meal provider. Meals consisted of huge, hot breakfasts that included eggs, ham, potatoes, homemade bread and jam, and gallons of coffee. By midmorning, she’d be taking fresh cinnamon rolls or muffins to the field. The noon meal would be the biggest of the day—roast beef, mashed potatoes and gravy, fresh garden vegetables, and homemade pie were considered normal. Meals were eaten in shifts so the machines could keep rolling. A lighter evening meal of sandwiches, followed by another dessert of homemade cake, was typical. The women who prepared and served all this food worked even longer hours than the men, setting the next morning’s bread and washing dishes until midnight, then rising by four a.m. to start again.

With the changing times, more farm operations have grown to where it’s more economical for them to own their own combines, though some custom combining crews are still in operation, with much more advanced, computerized equipment.

Sources:

Custom Combining on the Great Plains: A History, Thomas Isern, University of Oklahoma Press, 1981. Canadian edition, Western Producer Prairie Books, 1982.

 Not a single incident of wheat harvest occurs in The Reluctant Healer of Halifax, a novel of the Great Halifax Explosion of 1917. It’s a story of love, loss, faith, and honor set against Canada’s most devastating moment of the First World War.

 

Terrie Todd is the award-winning author of ten historical novels, all set in Canada,
where she lives with her husband Jon. A former church drama team leader and newspaper columnist, she’s also a frequent contributor to Guideposts Books, a mother of three, and grandmother of five.

 

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